


Still Here

by Galactique



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Assassination Attempt(s), Canon-Typical Violence, Death, Drama & Romance, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Major Character Injury, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-01
Updated: 2017-01-01
Packaged: 2018-09-14 01:24:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9150610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Galactique/pseuds/Galactique
Summary: After Padmé is seriously injured in an assassination attempt, Anakin struggles with the terrible knowledge that he might lose her.





	

Padmé looked serene as she floated in the bacta tank, but Anakin knew better. He could feel her unconscious distress through the Force. The soothing liquid had done nothing to remedy her nasty head wound and the cuts and bruises all over her body. Anakin stood in front of the tank, his face pale and tired under its soft glow. 

“She’ll be okay, Anakin,” Bail Organa said, resting a comforting hand on his shoulder. Mon Mothma, Riyo Chuchi, and Jar Jar Binks were there, too. They kept trying to offer words of reassurance, but it was more to comfort themselves than eachother. Everyone knew that the situation wasn’t looking good. 

Anakin pulled away and began pacing in front of the tank. Why wasn’t the treatment working? Why was she still in pain? He asked the medical droids and human attendants so many questions that they eventually had to shoo him out of the room.

He aimlessly walked up and down the wide halls of the medical facility as the orange glow from the sunset streamed through the windows. He didn’t know how long he wandered around. Time was meaningless to him. All he could think about was Padmé. 

He remembered the fateful moment when he heard the news from Obi-Wan: three senators had died in a fiery explosion on Coruscant and Padmé was the sole survivor. He remembered racing away from a post-mission briefing, ignoring the shouts of Mace Windu and Ahsoka to wait. No, he would not wait. He had to see her. He knew that his open display of frantic emotion was risky to their secret, but it didn’t matter. Not when she could be dying. 

Memories of the awful wreckage invaded his mind. Padmé’s bloody, mangled body was being carted off to an emergency shuttle when he arrived. He pushed through the bystanders to get to the stretcher, shouting Padmé’s name. There was so much blood. At first, he was angry. He wanted to hunt down whoever did this. They deserved to rot in prison for the rest of their miserable lives. Or worse…. He was ashamed by his violent, murderous thoughts. ‘There is no emotion, there is peace,’ he kept telling himself over and over as he watched the shuttle fly away. 

Now, he sunk to the floor by a window, overcome with despair. It was as if his whole world was caving in around him as he replayed the moment over and over. He hugged his knees to his chest and took deep breaths.

“Please, no,” he whispered. “Not her, too.” 

He stayed there for what felt like hours until Mon Mothma stepped out into the hallway. She looked down at him, struggling to find the right words. 

“I know it’s hard to see your friend like this, but she’ll pull through.” She said it firmly, but Anakin could hear the hesitation in her voice and it worried him. “Some extra time in the bacta will help, especially after the surgeries. Her injuries were pretty bad.” 

Anakin stood up, trying to look composed and professional. “She’ll live, though. She has to,” he said forcefully, trying to convince himself. 

“Of course she will,” Mothma said. “She’s a fighter.” 

“Yeah. I----” Anakin began, suddenly overcome with emotion. He failed to finish his thoughts and opted for turning toward the window, gazing out at the bustling skytraffic as the city lit up for the night. 

***  
Days later, Padmé was still in the medical center and not looking any better. Anakin would’ve stayed with her indefinitely, but Obi-Wan needed help on Felucia. 

He ran through the battlefield in a daze, barely registering his surroundings. His mind was scattered, unfocused. He was so stressed out and sleep-deprived that he wondered how he was even functioning. Shaking his head in frustration and trying to concentrate, he threw his lightsaber at a nearby group of droids and sliced them to pieces. 

“Master, watch out!” 

Anakin narrowly dove for cover before a storm of blaster fire shredded through the trees behind him. Ahsoka leapt through the air and started cutting down the advancing droids with blinding speed, her lightsabers a green blur. A trooper grabbed Anakin by the arm and pulled him to safety.

“General Skywalker, we need to---“ 

There was a deafening explosion and everything went black. 

*** 

Anakin dreamt of darkness. Not just any darkness, but a cold, unforgiving, heavy gloom filled with sadness and despair. He saw images of his mother as she died in his arms. And Padmé….NO. He thrashed around wildly, trying to wake himself up. 

“Anakin.” 

The gentle, familiar voice of Qui-Gon Jinn pierced his troubled thoughts. He felt his fear drain away for a moment, replaced by blissful stillness. He didn’t know why he was hearing Qui-Gon. Was this what death felt like? 

“Anakin,” Qui-Gon said again. “Know when to let go of the ones you love. There are some things you can’t change.” 

Anakin felt a surge of panic. “Never! She’s not going to die. I won’t let ANYONE I love die again,” he shouted into the abyss. 

“It will only bring you pain…” Qui-Gon’s voice got fainter. 

“No!” Anakin screamed, his terror rising anew. 

***  
Anakin opened his eyes. As his surroundings swam into focus, he was dismayed to find himself floating in a vat, hooked up to an uncomfortable breathing mask and all sorts of tubes. Not again. He’d visited far too many bacta tanks and hospital beds from mishaps on the battlefield lately. He squinted, trying to make out the faces beyond the glass: Obi-Wan, Ahsoka, Rex, C-3PO, and…his heart skipped a beat. There she was, standing in her senate attire, without a single scratch or bandage. Anakin reached out toward her, pressing a hand on the glass and smiling beneath his mask. She was here. She was alive. He closed his eyes and let himself sink back into the calm as a rare feeling of pure happiness washed over him. 

When he was released from the bacta a few hours later, he didn’t waste a second before puling Padmé into a fierce hug. He didn’t care that he was dripping wet, half-clothed, and probably going way too far in front of the others, he just had to touch her to make sure he wasn’t dreaming again. He drew away, trying not to cry as he cupped her face in his shaking hands. He could feel Obi-Wan and Ahsoka’s perplexed gazes, but he ignored it for now. 

“I thought I lost you,” he said. 

“You were out for five days, Anakin. We thought you weren’t going to make it,” Padmé said. “You must be quite the celebrity with the amount of visitors you got. Even the Chancellor dropped by.” She laughed tearfully and wrapped her arms around his waist. 

Anakin pulled her back against his chest and wept quietly. Obi-Wan escorted the others out of the room to give them a moment of privacy, which Anakin was grateful for (although he’d definitely get a lecture later and would have to keep insisting that he and Padmé were ‘just really good friends’). They remained entwined for a long time, listening to the quiet hum of medical equipment. 

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” Anakin said, a hint of fear rising in him as he remembered Qui-Gon’s words. “I love you so much, Padmé.”


End file.
